


my lover, my heart

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bloodplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15952316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Vampiric husbands have a little fun.





	my lover, my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterbitch (WinterLadyy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLadyy/gifts).



> for my friend Winterlady who's always conspiring with me about sexy sexy HCs.

It’s easier nowadays to hold on from outright killing his victims. It was so hard in the beginning, under the gas lamps and in the wet alleyways, when Shiro was still new and young and drank too much and took too much. 

 

Drinking a human empty lets him live a life of that person. He sees the past, the present, even a hint of the future that could have come. He watches, entranced, the flutter of the dying victim’s eyelashes.

 

No more. He does it no more. He whispers things to them after taking enough from them, makes them fall asleep in his arms and lays them down, vanishes into the night - only to find himself in the arms of another. 

 

These days, Shiro no longer hunts alone.

 

“Keith,” he whispers against midnight-hair and silky lips. 

 

“Shiro,” murmurs Keith, fierce, slender Keith, a newborn vampire of a mere fifty years. He’s a drug to Shiro: his scent, his presence, his tight, firm body, his divine face. With Keith, Shiro is complete. 

 

They share a kiss and taste blood from each other’s tongues, Keith grins, Shiro smiles, holds him tighter.

“I love you,” Shiro says, slips his hands under Keith’s shirt: Keith has never learned to wear jackets, not even in midwinter. He prefers to run bare-footed and shirt unbuttoned, a romantic hero with little interest in romance, except when it comes to Shiro.

“I never loved anyone before you,” is Keith’s answer: the love is in the kiss he lays on Shiro’s lips, then on his neck, grazes his unmarked neck with his fangs, fierce white fangs. 

Shiro quivers when Keith’s claws dig into his chest. “You are the only one for me, for all time, my fierce Keith. My beautiful Keith.” Shiro lifts his own hands to Keith’s throat, squeezes, Keith licks blood from his lips and offers himself to his mate.

 

Gladly Shiro sinks his teeth into Keith’s throat and licks, gladly shifts his thighs apart for Keith’s knee. The night wraps itself around them, the breeze caresses their skin. The air smells like blood and lust; the ground is filthy but still Keith pushes Shiro down on his and straddles him, Shiro’s claws easily ripping his shirt to pieces.

 

“Were your cock any harder, it would tear straight through your trousers,” Keith purrs and grins a bloody grin, leaves bloody gashes on Shiro’s broad chest, now revealed by the shirt tucked up to Shiro’s armpits. 

“Straight into you.” Shiro’s hips twitch. “Kiss me, baby, kiss me, let me taste what you’ve tasted.” He knows what his voice does to Keith like this and oh, there it is, the desire in Keith’s eyes, the bulge peeking from opened trousers. 

 

Keith never does anything easily, but Shiro he listens to, always and forever. Only to you I will bow to, only to you I will ever kneel, Keith has told him, time and again and Shiro believes it to be so. 

 

So Keith kisses him and Shiro kisses him back and bites his tongue until Keith is laughing and until Keith is sitting on his cock, thighs squeezing Shiro, insides squeezing Shiro’s cock. 

“You taste delicious, lover mine, my little devil,” Shiro whispers, in love, wrapped in darkness and Keith’s heat. 

“Devil, am I?” Keith’s tongue licks into his mouth, licks blood from his lips, from his neck. “Then what does that make you, my creator, my maker?” 

 

Shiro closes his eyes and squeezes his lover against himself, fucks into that eternally tight body, bites on an earlobe until it bleeds and until Keith bleeds and whimpers so deceitfully sweetly. 

 

“I love you, my little devil,” Shiro whispers.

“I love you, my maker,” Keith murmurs and squeezes Shiro tight tight tight tight.


End file.
